by Simon Kewin
It went further: many of the active pollinators – insectoids and avians and winged mammals – were apparently also quite happy to fertilize plants from worlds many light-years from their own. As she understood it, that fact puzzled the xenobiologists, too. The domes had been built partly to allow the scientists to explain why it might be.
The subarctic biome had been populated with life-forms from colder worlds and more extreme planetary latitudes. The vegetation was mostly low-growing grassland, along with mosses, lichens and ferns, although there were also dark, watchful forests of spike-leaved evergreen trees. Her bead told her that Ro was waiting within the largest of these.
Artificial snow drifted from the glass sky, but it cut out as soon as she entered the shelter of the transplanted forest. The floor beneath her feet became a springy mesh of discarded needles. She slipped back the hood of the mulithermal coat they'd given her. The hush enveloping her was absolute. The contrast with the clashing heat of the environment outside the dome was stark; it was hard to believe that she'd stepped from temperatures approaching fifty degrees to this sub-zero permafrost. She welcomed it; her brain was noticeably sharper in the cold. Her breath when she exhaled through her mouth was a visible mist of moisture.
She slipped the hand-weapon they'd given her into its holster; there were large predators in the dome, the most dangerous of them the carnivorous gataraptors that hunted the tundra for smaller mammalians. But she was safe enough under the trees.
Ro waited for her in a clearing. The Fleet General sat upon the body of a fallen tree, watching her approach in silence. Something in the set of Ro's body suggested that she might leap into action at any moment, throw herself into an attack. She clearly did not need multithermal clothing; to her the ambient temperatures would be something approaching normal, and it was no surprise that she'd chosen to visit the subarctic biome. It was another thing Magdi would have to manage carefully: she had asked a lot of Ro, especially, by choosing Coronade's equator as the setting for the talks.
Magdi extended all her empathic senses as she neared the General. The predominant emotion she picked up was suspicion – reasonably enough. It was a cliché to think of the Aranians as cold and distant, but the fact was that Magdi had failed to build up any sort of connection with Ro during the pre-talk negotiations.
Ro finally stood to greet Magdi, offering her hand in the traditional Aranian forearm-grasp. Ro was thirty centimetres shorter than Magdi, her body powerful and compact, a form well-adapted to the preservation of core heat. A fine down covered her skin, delicate and shaded upon her face, thicker on her neck and exposed shoulder.
They sat side-by-side on the log. The wood was soft beneath Magdi, orange with rot. Ro said, “You've met with both Palianche and Vol Velle, I hear.”
Magdi sighed inwardly. Did everyone know about her supposedly secret arrangements? She repeated her line about greeting the delegations in planetary order.
Her words seemed to amuse Ro. “Strange how statements like that always seems to mean my people coming last. Tell me, did Palianche demand my expulsion from the talks, refuse to have to gaze upon me?”
“As a matter of fact, it was me he objected to.”
Ro's eyes narrowed slightly as she considered that. “He was posturing, of course.”
“Of course.”
“He is just as predictable on the battlefield. I have commanded our fleet against him three times and beaten him backwards on each occasion.”
“He would claim you flouted the rules of war and committed atrocities. That just this year you unleashed your fleet's beam-weaponry on the Achenar, a peaceful science exploration vessel, killing everyone onboard.”
Ro bared her teeth in what might have been a grin. “He does not come from a world that teeters constantly on the brink of social collapse; that gives you a rather different perspective on what constitutes an atrocity. And the Achenar bore a full complement of Gogoni shocktroops. It wasn't a science vessel; it was part of a colonization task-force.”
Grey areas. Getting at the truth between two tellings of the same story was all-too often impossible. “Do you think you could ever live in peace with the Gogoni, share local space with them?”
“By local space, you are referring to Penanda.”
Ro was clearly keen to get straight to the crux of the matter. She was not one for wasting time over niceties, a trait Magdi rather appreciated.
“The planet and your entire solar system,” said Magdi. “Two of your victories were nowhere near the disputed world.”
Ro dipped her head as if in acknowledgement of her military glories. “We do not seek war; we wish only to survive. If the Gogoni and Sejerne can accept our presence and our needs, then we can tolerate theirs.”
“You are referring to your need for the mineral resources of Penanda.”
“I'm told you've done some research on my world, so you will know we are energy-poor, lacking in the solar radiation that Gogon and Sejerne are bathed in. The energy halo we propose to build around our world will guarantee our survival for centuries to come.”
The Aranian plans were certainly impressive: a cluster of 360 fission reactors in stationary orbit, safely removed from the surface but able to beam constant, reliable energy down to receiving installations upon the ground. Once constructed, the only technical challenge was maintaining a steady supply of the required radioactive materials – and Penanda was rich in uranium.
“The Gogoni are suspicious; they suspect you of wanting to stock-pile nuclear weapons to arm your fleet. They talk of you unleashing a planetary strike on Gogon, scouring it of all life.”
“The Gogoni are paranoid fools. They assume everyone is like them: expansionist, aggressive. I imagine I don't need to explain this to an empath. The truth is that with enough energy to stabilize our ecosystem, we would be less of a threat to them, not more. We would have no need to scrap for mineral resources upon asteroids and comets.”
“You would be prepared to accept observers to confirm that your intentions are peaceful?”
“We would resist it strongly, resent the intrusion.” Ro stopped talking, then tilted her head to one side in a manner that suggested things might, perhaps, not be so clear-cut. “Although, between you and me, it is perhaps something we can discuss. We have nothing to hide, although if we did accept the presence of observers on our world we would, of course, assert our right to watch what takes place on Gogon and Sejerne.”
“Of course,” said Magdi. “The agreement must be satisfactory to all parties, or it won't be sustainable. We should also talk about the images you recently sent me in diplomatic despatches.”
“Ah. I wondered when you would get round to those.”
“Can we be sure they are genuine?” Magdi asked. “Do you know for a fact that they are an accurate record of past events, and not just some wild plan that never took flight?”
Ro stared to the sky, a patch of blue ringed by the canopy of the treetops. Magdi glanced that way, too. A single black bird flitted across the space, pursuing some invisible insectoid.
“You have my word,” said Ro, “but perhaps that doesn't count for very much. I can also give you the co-ordinates of the target site; by all means visit Penanda to check for yourself. I promise I won't say a word to Ambassador Vol Velle about your intrusion into the sacred realm.”
“Can I ask who else knows about the existence of these records?”
“At this point in time, only a trusted team of archive historians and a few individuals in Aranian High Command.”
“Surely your planetary Mind is aware of them?”
“It is. It chose to remain silent on the matter for fear of disrupting a delicate political situation. At our request, it did not convey them to Coronade or anyone else.”
That was good; the matter required very careful handling. Magdi considered Ro for a moment, extending her empathic senses to try and understand the Fleet General's motivations. In truth, she wasn't getting very much. Ro's mind and her
emotions were locked away, frozen inside her like a city under martial law. Still, they could talk freely inside the dome; the habitat was completely natural, with no electronic surveillance apart from the camera by the doorway used to check for gataraptors before going inside. She suspected that was another reason Ro had chosen to meet in the dome. Respecting the choice, Magdi had also temporarily blocked communication links between her brain and all AIs. Even Coronade couldn't hear them.
“You say these records are nearly a thousand years old? Forgive me, but it might be hard for the other delegations to believe that such a story could be true.”
“Meaning, you do not believe it.”
“Meaning that if I can see these objections, others will, too. A thousand years ago, the most advanced civilisations on Sejerne and Gogon thought wooden carts were dangerously high-tech, but you are claiming your world was sending out spaceships advanced enough to land upon Penanda.”
“I do not claim anything. The records are there, and an archaeological assay of the landing site will confirm it. A millennium ago, my people landed upon and claimed the disputed world.”
Magdi wondered how Vol Velle would react to such information. Gogon was forever vowing it was on the point of violating the sacred planet without ever quite doing so: a long-drawn-out game of brinksmanship. Was it possible Ro's forebears had taken the extra step ten centuries previously? Arianas had no knowledge of Sejerne at the time, wouldn't have been aware that their solar system housed any other intelligent life, but still the presence of aliens upon the face of Amon would be enough to ferment fury on Vol Velle's world.
Magdi said, “May I ask why you haven't chosen to go public with this information? It clearly strengthens your legal claim considerably.”
Ro smiled at that, light washing across the delicate layer of down on her cheeks. “We reserve the right to make the information public if the negotiations are going against us, but, for now, we would prefer not to destabilize the political situation. We are well aware the news could trigger interplanetary conflict. While we are ready for that if it comes, we would prefer to avoid the cost and the bloodshed – despite what Palianche may think about us.”
“I understand,” said Magdi. She understood, also, what Ro wasn't saying. By choosing not to reveal the inconvenient truth of the ancient landing upon the disputed world, the Aranians were giving themselves a vital bargaining-chip. They'd calculated that the conciliators of Coronade would go to great lengths to keep the fact hidden. To reveal it would mean an abrupt end to the peace talks. Now that had become Magdi's problem: she would have to be very careful to give Ro what she wanted, for fear of the truth coming out.
Always assuming that the Aranians' claims were true.
“How is it possible that your culture's successful ventures into space have been unknown until now? My researches mentioned no such historical event, or anything even suggesting it was possible.” Most likely, Arianas had known the truth for some time and had held it in reserve for this moment, but the knowledge had to be relatively recent. The wars between the worlds had been going on for decades, and Arianas had come close to annihilation more than once.
“If you'd researched our world properly, you wouldn't find it so surprising. You must know how vulnerable our ecosystem is so far from the sun. Small climatic changes have massive effects on our biosphere. One thousand years ago, during our first technological revolution, we achieved great things, built marvels, including Skiavor, the ship capable of visiting Penanda. As an unintended by-product of all that increased industrial activity, we also raised the concentrations of greenhouse gases in our atmosphere by enough to trigger the devastating ice-age of an environmental winter. You will surely know of our Great Dusk. The Skiavor landing was the peak of our achievement, but within fifty years of that event, our entire civilization had collapsed. We descended into barbarity and much was lost. It is only in the past century that we have clawed our way back to where we were before the collapse. We are determined to make sure it never happens again.”
Without comms access to the outside world, Magdi was limited to the information she already had stored in her brain. “Skiavor. I do not know the word.”
Ro waved the matter away with her hand, as if it was of no importance. “The name of a creature in our sagas and myths. A vast beast that flies through the eternal night of space, lighting the stars by breathing flame upon them. By setting our sun alight, it brought life to Arianas.”
Magdi didn't pursue the question; Ro seemed a little embarrassed by the story. A calculating, military mind like hers would have no time for fanciful tales of vast star-creatures. Or perhaps she didn't want to answer the question of why this Skiavor had been so grudging with the paltry light and heat it had bestowed upon Arianas while being so generous to the other worlds of the system.
“Did your forebears send people or machines to Penanda?”
“There were two aboard Skiavor.”
“Can you prove that as well? Who were these people?”
For the briefest moment, Magdi felt a pulsar-burst of strong emotion from Ro's mind: anger, resentment. It was rapidly suppressed. It seemed to Magdi that the fine hairs on Ro's neck bristled very slightly.
“The names of the two pathfinders are lost to history. Please, do not belittle what my people achieved, and do not underestimate what we are offering here. The truth is, this ancient achievement should be celebrated across Arianas as a moment of the greatest triumph, but we are prepared, for now, to keep the fact buried. For the sake of peace.”
Ro was certainly right about one thing: a story like that could be used to inspire and unite the people of Arianas, give them something to be proud of. The political temptation to reveal the truth had to be enormous. “Did the two return safely to Arianas?”
Ro's voice remained as inexpressive as ever. “We do not believe they did. Our historians' researches suggest that the mission was always designed as a one-way journey. It makes the actions of the two travellers only more heroic. And it does not alter the value of our claim: our ship was the first to land on Penanda. The planet was, and remains, an uninhabited world, and that clearly makes it ours.”
“Ambassador Vol Velle might claim that it wasn't uninhabited at the time. That the gods and spirits of his people have always been there.”
“We can allow the Sejerne their childish stories, but the niceties of religious doctrine count for nothing against the survival of a planetary species. My planetary species. There is no equivalence in the competing claims. Unless Vol Velle can bring me proof of an earlier presence on Penanda – a real, physical presence – ¬then his objections can be ignored.”
And there lay the issue. What was vital to one planet seemed trivial or ridiculous to the others. There would be a point when such matters needed to be discussed openly, but not yet. “Whatever happens in these talks,” said Magdi, “I assure you that I, and Coronade, and the whole Nexus of planetary Minds, will do what we can to ensure that your world continues to thrive. You do not need to teeter constantly on the brink of social collapse.”
“Then give us the uranium and the mineral resources we need to construct our halo. That is all we ask.”
“This is your only demand?”
“A reliable energy supply and freedom from attack. We demand nothing more and nothing less. Cultural and economic ties can flourish after peace is established. Or not.”
Magdi stood. Her limbs were stiff from the cold even with the multithermal clothing. Her exposed cheeks and jaw were turning numb, making her slur her words. “I understand. Please, I beg you, tell no one about the ancient landing on Penanda. I'm sure we both appreciate that finding a satisfactory solution to all this will be easier if this remarkable part of your history remains a secret for now. One day, I hope, your two travellers can be celebrated as the heroes they were.”
Ro remained seated where she was. “Give us no reason to reveal the information, and we will not do so.”
Magdi nodded. “You w
ill be at the Congress Hall tomorrow?”
“I shall be there; I'm looking forwards to finally meeting Palianche in the flesh. Let us hope he doesn't carry through some of the more … visceral threats he has made against me over the years.”
Magdi left Ro sitting on the fallen tree and picked her way through the hush of the evergreen forest for the outside world.
As she retraced her steps across the mossy slope that led to the dome entrance, the energy-weapon ready in her hand once more, she reactivated her link to the Coronade Mind.
“I need to ask you to do something.”
“Of course.”
“Before I do, I have a question. I presume you are aware that other planetary Minds do not always share the information they have available to them?”
A human might have paused to consider how best to reply to such a delicate question, but the planet's artificial intellect responded immediately, as it always did. Sometimes it felt as if it were starting its response before she'd even finished speaking.
“The galactic Nexus operates on the principle of openness and honesty, but that doesn't mean we have to inform each other of everything that takes place on all occasions. Social interaction between us is like that between people: sometimes we have to dissemble or exaggerate or conceal for the greater good. Or because it saves another Mind's feelings.”
She wondered how far that went – or, indeed, whether it was even the truth. For all she knew, the Minds revealed everything to each other but chose to lie about the fact for the sake of peaceful relations with their organic populations. It was a troubling thought. “You would be prepared to act without the Minds of Gogon, Sejerne or Arianas finding out?”
“If it makes sense to do so. I presume this is to do with the peace talks. If you see the need to operate in secret, then I suspect I will, too.”
“But you can't promise me?”
